Let Me Go (I'll Come Back To You)
by Deadly Whirlpool
Summary: When Scott did something that Stiles couldn't just forgive and forget, Stiles decides to leave the McCall Pack and make his own way in the world. After all, he is a Spark. He can do anything. He just needs to believe. BAMF STILES. STALION. SLASH. COMPLETE.


**TITLE: Let Me Go (I'll Come Back To You)**

 **FANDOM: Teen Wolf**

 **RELATIONSHIP: Stiles Stilinski/Deucalion**

 **WARNING: Okay, so, don't read this with the Canon in mind. I took bits and pieces of canon, cobbled it together in a really weird way, and threw the rest out. This is basically an Alternate Universe lmao. Also, school what school? Everyone's 18. There are lots of plot holes, I think. I haven't patched it up. Just, take it as it is, people. Also, um, this is Stiles-centric. So, just don't question what the others are doing. They're just out there, doing things...**

OoO

Stiles stared at Scott, too shocked to even speak for a moment.

"What?" Stiles asked, disbelieving.

"Come on, Stiles," pleaded Scott. "It's for the sake of our pack. We need this treaty, Stiles."

"So? You thought you'd sell your best friend to a bunch of strangers for a fucking _treaty_?" Stiles was furious.

"No!" Scott denied, vehemently. "Stiles, no! It's not like that, dude. No one is selling you. It's only marriage. And you won't be hurt or unhappy, dude. I'll make sure of it."

Scott looked at Stiles with puppy dog eyes. "C'mon, man, please. I need you with me on this one."

Stiles stared at Scott like he's never seen him before. The McCall pack of Beacon Hills was one of the infamous packs in the supernatural community for being a diverse pack consisting of a banshee, a kitsune, a werecoyote, a chimera, a spark, werewolves and humans, all led by a True Alpha. A number of werewolf packs had come forth to make treaties with the McCall pack and Scott had only been too happy to strengthen themselves more.

Stiles, as Scott's best friend and brother had stood by him throughout everything, even though Scott's decision making skills were severely lacking. He had watched and had tried to knock some sense into Scott as Scott had become more enamored with his own self and had become more entitled about what he's 'owed for being a True Alpha'.

Scott never listened. If anything, he always brushed Stiles' concerns away.

Stiles had always tried to clean up after Scott's messes, all the while wondering when Scott was going to cross a line that was not meant to be crossed. He had dreaded that day, knowing that it was inevitable.

Now, Scott had decided to offer Stiles to another werewolf pack in marriage to seal a treaty, without even consulting Stiles about it. And to top it all off, he had finalised the marriage, in Stiles' behalf.

 _Looks like that day had finally arrived._

The red hot fury had sharpened to ice cold rage. Beyond anything, Stiles was hurt and felt betrayed. This man was supposed to have been his brother. Instead he had been using Stiles as a bargaining chip.

"And when is this _marriage_ ," Stiles spat out the word, "to take place?"

"Tomorrow, man," Scott said, smiling, thinking that Stiles was giving in.

 _Oh Scott._

"Everything's decided, so you don't have to worry about anything. You just gotta be there and it will all be fine."

Stiles looked Scott in the eye, feeling resigned to how things would play out.

"No. There won't be any ceremony tomorrow, because I'm not agreeing to this. If you recall, I _never_ agreed to this."

Scott frowned.

"But... Stiles, dude, it's for our pack. We need them as our allies, Stiles. And they were all too eager to sign a treaty with us when they heard that they'll be getting a spark."

Stiles froze. He had a sinking feeling about their previous treaties, how the other packs had been all too eager to agree, how he had felt dirty with their greedy gazes raking over him, how Scott had brushed him off with unconcerned words whenever Stiles had brought it up.

"You volunteered me for the sake of a _treaty_? You had no right to do that, Scott!"

Stiles rubbed his hands over his face. His spark was trying to burst out of him, yearning to rip into the True Alpha in front if him, and he was very much tempted to let it.

He took a deep breath to keep his voice from shaking.

"Have you been dangling me and my status as a spark to get the other packs on your side?"

Scott blanched.

"Stiles... It wasn't like that."

"You can't even deny it, can you?" Stiles shook his head, wondering how it all went wrong.

"Scott, you're my brother. And there's been so many times that you have done questionable things that I let go, because I was always there to do damage control. But this time, you've gone too far, Scott."

Scott was beginning to look worried. It seemed like he was finally grasping that the situation was spinning out of his control.

"Stiles, this is not a big deal," Scott tried to placate. "You're the one who said everyone's got to take one for the team at some point or the other. This is something only you can do. You need to do this for our pack, Stiles."

"Your pack, Scott," Stiles said, quietly but firmly. "Your pack, not ours. Not anymore. Taking one for the team doesn't mean you should ignore a person's autonomy. You should know better, Scott. People are not bargaining chips. You do _not_ get to use people like that, as you wish. _You do not get to use me like that._ Call this off, Scott."

Scott flashed his red eyes at Stiles, losing patience.

"I am the Alpha. You will not disobey me."

Stiles snorted, humourlessly. He deliberately relaxed his body, keeping a sharp eye on the werewolf in front of him. His fingertips tingled with magic, ready to defend himself.

"You may be the True Alpha, but you were never _my_ alpha. If anything, I was yours, considering how you almost always deferred to me since childhood."

Stiles shook his head.

"You had every opportunity to listen to me now. But you chose to stand by your despicable actions. Well, this is the last time you'll ever use me, Scott. No more. I refuse to be in your pack any longer. I would say have a nice life. But frankly? Right now, I don't fucking care."

Stiles concentrated inward and focused his spark on how much he didn't want to be here. He didn't listen to Scott pleading with him to wait, as his magic engulfed him to take him where he always felt safe. Between one blink and the next, he was in his home, waiting for his dad to come back from the station.

Sitting on the couch, he put his head in his hands. This wasn't supposed to happen. Stiles allowed himself to feel the betrayal that coursed through him, lighting his nerves on fire. He took a calming breath, not wanting to flatten his own home. He gave himself a few minutes to just breathe.

Then, he acted. He started packing everything he needed. He wasn't going to stay in this miserable town any longer. Beacon Hills may have been his home, once upon a time. But he had been feeling this urge to get out ever since his spark woke up within him. The only reason he had stayed was because his dad and the pack had needed him.

After everything that had happened, Stiles doubted he could continue to live here. For the first time in a long time, it felt like he wasn't shackled to Beacon Hills any more. He felt free, without any responsibilities weighing him down.

Stiles hated what had happened between Scott and him. But, in a weird way, he was also grateful. That didn't stop him from feeling betrayed of course. But he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Just as he finished packing what was needed, he heard his dad get in.

"Hey, dad," Stiles greeted.

The Sheriff looked at his son and realised that something was wrong.

"What's going on, Stiles?"

"I'm leaving Beacon Hills, dad."

The Sheriff blinked.

"Not that I'm not glad that you're finally getting out, but what brought this on?"

"Scott," Stiles said, flatly.

Noah groaned, and went to sit on the couch, dragging his son along.

"What did that boy do now?"

If it had been any other time, Stiles would have laughed at the long-suffering look on his dad's face.

"He tried to use me to get another wolf pack as allies."

Stiles filled his dad in on what had transpired.

"I can't do this anymore, dad," Stiles whispered, looking at his dad. "I can't keep doing things for the sake of the pack, for the sake of Scott, just because he wants me to. I deserve better. Don't I?"

In that moment, Stiles sounded younger than he was, gazing at his dad, wanting to know if he was wrong, wanting his dad to support him. Noah embraced him son, holding him tight.

"Yes, son," Noah said, with utmost conviction. "Yeah, Stiles, you deserve better."

Noah didn't say anything as Stiles shook with silent sobs. He just held him, wishing that he could protect his son from the callous actions of his best friend. To Noah, his son was the strongest person he knew. But sometimes, even he needed his dad to hold him close and soothe him. So, that's what Noah did.

"I promised mom, you know," Stiles said, quietly, after a few long minutes. Claudia Stilinski was a sore subject to both father and son. But sometimes, their memories of her was bittersweet, instead of being painful.

"Promised her what, Stiles?" Noah asked, just as quietly.

"I promised her that I would only marry someone for love," Stiles said, a wry smile on his lips. He looked up at his dad. "I promised her I would only marry someone if we had the kind of love you both had."

Noah closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead.

OoO

 **To: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Leaving BH._

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _What did Scott do?_

 **To: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Promised me in marriage to some pack_

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Want me to kill him?_

 **To: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Nah. Keep an eye on my dad tho_

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Of course. Keep in touch or else._

 **To: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Lol ofc, my goddess_ _:3_

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _:3_

OoO

In the one year, four months and seventeen days since he had left Beacon Hills, with his father's blessings, Stiles had made himself a name in the supernatural community. He didn't set out to do that, of course. But it happened anyway.

When he had been a part of the McCall pack, Stiles had been the research guy. He had researched about everything their pack might need, then and later. He had left no stone unturned. He had established contacts with various packs, druids, covens, traded favours, and was the one mainly responsible for getting the word out about the McCall pack that had taken over Hale territory.

So, when Stiles had wanted to leave Beacon Hills and make his own way, he knew whom he should contact and where he should go.

He travelled everywhere. He helped out where his expertise might be needed. He gathered favours and knowledge as currency. It was not just the supernatural world that benefitted from him. Stiles also helped the hunters with useful information. At the same time, he also made sure that no innocent creature was hurt.

Stiles became a respectable part of the supernatural community. And he learnt everything he can about sparks, learnt how to control his semi-sentient spark so that he won't be consumed by it till he lost all sense of self.

All through his journey, he kept in touch with his dad and Lydia. Lydia never spoke about what was happening with the pack. She knew that Stiles was still and always would be loyal to the people he loved and he would drop everything to help them. Instead they talked about the people they met, the knowledge they gained and about each other.

The other members of the pack, especially Malia and Kira, had been surprised about his decision to leave, and had been shocked when they learnt about the circumstances that pushed him to leave. Lydia told him later on that Kira had broken up with Scott when he didn't admit that what he had done was wrong.

As for Scott, Stiles had gotten quite a lot of texts and voice messages demanding for him to return. Stiles didn't deign to reply to any of them, even though he was filled with an unbearable sadness every time he thought about him.

When he was younger, Stiles would have told anyone who cared to listen and even people who didn't, that Stiles and Scott were _StilesandScott_ and nothing would break them apart. At present, Stiles mourned for the brother he lost, the trust that was broken, the shattered friendship that should have _(should should should why Scott where did everything go wrong when did I stop being a brother to you your best friend why did you do that what did I do wrong)_ lasted till the end.

OoO

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _You ok?_

 **To: Sourwolf**

 _Aw is that concern I'm detecting?_

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Stiles_.

 **To: Sourwolf**

 _I'm fine. I'm dealing with everything_

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Check in with me regularly._

 **To: Sourwolf**

 _Omg you really are worried_

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Of course I am. You're pack._

 **To: Sourwolf**

 _I'm not a part of the McCall pack any more, Derek_

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _I know. But you're my pack anyway._

OoO

In Brazil, two years after leaving Beacon Hills, while Stiles was helping hunters with cracking down on codeless smugglers who were wreaking havoc on the Naga settlement there, he came across a familiar face that he most certainly was not expecting to see any time soon.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," Peter smirked at the gobsmacked look on Stiles.

"Wha-! What!!!" Stiles flailed as Peter carefully stepped back to avoid getting hit by the erratic limbs.

"Peter!"

"Stiles!" Peter deadpanned.

"Dude, I never thought I'll see you here," Stiles beamed at the bemused wolf.

Before Peter could say anything, Stiles threw his arms around the older man and pulled him into a tight hug. At first, it was like hugging a stone pillar. But slowly, bit by bit, Peter relaxed enough to hug him back.

"It's great to see you again, zombie wolf," Stiles mumbled into Peter's shirt.

Peter rubbed his cheek on Stiles' head, scenting him.

"Likewise, brat," said Peter, fondness tinging his voice.

As far as Scott and the entire pack knew, Stiles and Peter hated each other's guts. Only Lydia and Derek knew that both were fascinated with each other's sharp intellect, unbreakable loyalty to people who had earned it, and that ruthless streak that made them willing to do anything to protect what they considered theirs. Stiles had always known that Peter wouldn't stay in the town that had destroyed everything he had held dear. But he was still heartbroken when the werewolf left, with only a short goodbye to Stiles and Derek.

So, to see Peter Hale again, after a long time, Stiles was overjoyed.

They went to a nearby bar to catch up, after the smugglers were caught, quite easily when Stiles and Peter decided to work together.

Stiles looked around the warm, dimly lit bar. He spotted a vampire, four werewolves, and three witches, before he focused on Peter again.

"So, have you been travelling the world like you wanted?" Stiles asked, lifting an eyebrow at the other.

Peter smirked.

"Your default expression hasn't changed a bit. Still creepy. Good to know," snarked Stiles.

Peter laughed softly, surprising Stiles. Now that Stiles took the time to actually observe him, he could see that Peter was much more relaxed. His eyes didn't have as much shadows as before. He seemed almost settled in his own skin.

Stiles concentrated on Peter's aura and let out a delighted sound.

"What?" Peter questioned.

"You've healed since you left," Stiles said, giving a small smile. "I'm glad."

"Yes, well," Peter grinned and flashed his eyes at Stiles.

 _Alpha red._

"Oh my god, you bastard," cackled Stiles. Peter just smirked, smugly.

"What about a pack?" Stiles asked, worried. "You have a pack, right, Peter? You're not a rogue Alpha, right?"

Peter smiled at his concern.

"I do have a pack, Stiles, calm down," Peter said, nodding towards two werewolves at the corner whom Stiles had noticed on entry. Both of them nodded at Stiles, eerily in sync.

"Are they twins?" Stiles asked, curious.

"Yes, they are," Peter said, looking at Stiles. "I also have other pack bonds, to Derek and Cora. And... You."

Stiles gaped.

"Me? Derek and Cora, I understand. Why the fuck would you have a pack bond with me?"

Peter just looked at Stiles as though he was an idiot.

Stiles remembered how, in Beacon Hills, when Peter was there, the only people he would scent mark as pack were Stiles, Derek and Cora. Stiles never noticed how often Peter brushed his hand over Stiles' shoulders and his head.

"Oh," Stiles blinked.

"Yes, oh," Peter said, dryly.

"I'm such an idiot," Stiles face-palmed.

"Agreed."

"Ugh, shut up," Stiles flapped his hand at Peter, but immediately snatched it back when Peter showed a hint of fang. "Bad dog! No biting the fragile human!"

"From what I've been hearing, you're the furthest thing from a _fragile_ human, sweetheart," Peter said.

Stiles blushed and looked away. His eyes caught the two werewolves from Peter's pack staring at them, with smiles on their faces. When they noticed him looking at them, they grinned, flashing their red eyes at him.

 _Wait... Red eyes?_

Stiles sqwaked.

"You're in an _alpha pack_?!"

Peter blinked at him, then looked at the twins and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I am," Peter said, sipping his drink gracefully.

Stiles watched his companion's throat as he swallowed.

"There are a few alpha packs out there, yes," Stiles mused. "But knowing you, you won't join just any alpha pack. You've got better taste than that. So, knowing your desire for power and stability..."

Stiles inhaled sharply, both from Peter licking his lips and from the answer that he thought of.

"You're in Deucalion's pack," Stiles stated, confident in his answer. "The Demon Wolf."

Peter nodded, looking proud. "Clever as always, sweetheart."

Stiles smirked back.

Stiles learnt that the twins were called Aiden and Ethan. And that the others, Deucalion, Kali and Ennis, were busy on some other business. When Peter asked about Beacon Hills, Stiles did not want to confide in Peter. Not because he didn't trust him, no. Rather, it was because Stiles knew that Peter might go directly to BH and rip Scott's throat out.

"Scott's and my... _views_ didn't mesh anymore," Stiles said, smiling grimly.

"Don't, just," Stiles held his hand up to stop Peter from asking any questions, "not now, Peter. I don't want to talk about it."

Stiles sighed, wearily.

Peter observed him with narrowed eyes. He slowly inclined his head.

"Very well. I'll let this go, for now. But you will tell me the entire truth later."

Stiles nodded.

"So, did you hear about this witch who helped out a kitsune in Japan and won its favour?" Peter asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"Um...," Stiles shifted uncomfortably.

Peter slowly placed his drink on the table, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

"No way," Peter laughed. "It was _you_!?"

Stiles blushed. "Dude, shut up."

"I can't believe it," Peter said, gleefully. "No, wait, I can. It's _you_!"

Peter laughed freely as Stiles hid his face in his palms.

From then on, Peter asked about all the other outrageous rumours he had heard, and Stiles told him if it was true or false.

"Siren rescue in the west coast?"

"True. Sirens are just seriously misunderstood, I swear. They were so sweet to me. Hell, they invited me to visit whenever I wanted."

"Yeti sighting in Nepal?"

"False. There are no yetis as far as I know. Which is a damn shame since, you know, yetis are fucking cool."

"Incubus in Paris that actually fell in love?"

"Dude, that wasn't my fault. I told him it was no strings attached. I told him that it wasn't a relationship. He agreed too. And when I was leaving, he gave me a bunch of roses and pleaded with me to be his mate forever! What's up with that? Poor guy, he was heartbroken when I said no. He'll be fine, though."

"Sex was that good, was it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Stiles gave a lascivious wink.

"Witch coven decimated in Michigan?"

"True. They tried to kill me and take my spark for their own. Ha, as if I would just let them."

"Bloodthirsty as always, darling boy," Peter said, nodding in approval.

Stiles gave a predatory grin.

Before Peter can continue, he straightened up, looking towards the door. The twins were doing the same.

"Time to go, then?" Stiles asked, disappointed.

"Looks like, sweetheart," Peter said. "You have my number. Keep in touch. Or I'll track you down and rip your throat out."

"With your teeth," Stiles finished, grinning. "Gotcha, creeper wolf."

Stiles stood up to give Peter a last hug, letting Peter scent him and scenting him in return.

"You take care, okay," Stiles instructed, sternly. "If you need help, you call me."

Peter smiled. "Goodbye, Stiles."

Stiles waved at the twins, watching as they waved back.

Sitting down, he finished his drink and settled the tab. He looked around once and saw a few people staring at him in awe. Stiles winced as he remembered he hadn't put up any wards while talking to Peter. Chances were rumours would be flying even more than before. Shrugging, Stiles walked out.

Standing outside, he tilted his face to the sun, soaking in the heat. He saw a black SUV that was leaving the parking lot. In the shotgun seat, there was a guy wearing sunglasses. As Stiles watched, he turned his head to look right at Stiles. Even though, the guy's eyes were covered, it felt like he was seeing straight through Stiles, down to his very soul.

Stiles held the eye contact, feeling a shiver running down his spine. Just as the SUV turned a corner, the last thing Stiles saw was the guy's cheekbones, sharp enough to cut diamond.

 _Fuck, he was hot._

OoO

Stiles was in Paris. He told himself he wouldn't go to Paris for a long time, after that fiasco with the incubus. And yet, here he was. In Paris.

In his defence, Stiles was asked to join the Council's yearly meeting. And it was never a good idea to say no to the Council.

The Council was made up of various supernatural creatures and hunters, and was responsible for keeping the supernatural world out of the public eye. The big shots of the supernatural community were all invited. As far as Stiles could gather, the Argents and Calaveras, from the hunting community, attended every meeting. Representatives of the druids, witch covens, minor gods, alpha packs, other important werewolf packs would be gathered for the meeting. No one can enter unless they have a personal invite.

Lydia and his dad had teamed up to force Stiles to wear a proper tux. Even Derek deigned to give a few words of wisdom.

OoO

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Don't mouth off. Don't let anyone kill you._

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Don't you dare go there looking like a homeless hobo._

 **To: Sourwolf**

 _Jeez fine. You ppl are total mother hens, I swear_

OoO

The thing was, most people would not believe that Stiles was capable of focusing on a single thing, instead of fluttering over a million things like a demented humming bird. Well, Stiles wouldn't have believed it either. But he had found that having a focusing rune, at his nape, helped him a hell lot more than meditation ever did.

Currently, in a spacious room filled with the most powerful beings of the supernatural community, Stiles was very much glad for the focusing rune. There was a low level of hostility that permeated the room, overlapped by the forced politeness. For once, Stiles chose to remain silent and observe the undercurrents of the people in the room.

The Argent matriarch was accompanied by her husband, father-in-law, and her daughter. From what he could tell, neither Victoria Argent nor Chris Argent got along with the older Argent, Gerard. Also, Allison Argent had been brought along to show her the workings of the secret world as she was the next matriarch.

The Calaveras, led by Araya Calavera, a ruthless lady with a cold disposition, did not get along with the Argents.

 _No... Wait..._

The Calaveras were fine with the Argents. They did not get along with one Argent in particular. _Gerard Argent._

Now that Stiles noticed, he could see that most leaders despised Gerard Argent. That old man, with smug eyes and a cruel smirk, got disgusted glances and sneers while the rest of the hunters got respectful nods.

Gerard Argent curved his mouth into a truly twisted and gleeful smile, while looking at the door.

A low, fierce growl washed over the room, making the occupants stiffen in their seats.

 _It was the Demon Wolf._

Everyone knew the story of how Gerard Argent had stolen Deucalion's sight and made sure that he wouldn't ever regain it. Looking at how Deucalion and his entire pack, Kali, Ennis, Aiden, Ethan and Peter were glaring at the older Argent, a snarl etched into their faces, Stiles knew that they would take any chance, no matter how small, to ensure that Gerard Argent did not stain the world with his presence any longer.

Focusing his spark, he observed Gerard Argent and almost recoiled. His aura was a mass of congealed tar, entwined with rot and cruelty.

Stiles suppressed a shudder, and glanced at the newcomers. Deucalion sat with Kali at his left and Ennis at his right, while Peter and the twins stood behind the three. Stiles caught Peter's eyes. Neither gave any sign of recognition. The same happened with the twins. When Stiles looked down, his eyes widened when he saw that Deucalion was staring right at him, even though his eyes were hidden by the sunglasses.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as his heart galloped in his chest. Stiles noticed how other werewolves and vampires began to perk up and sniff the air. With a blink, Stiles extinguished his entire biological imprint in the room. His scent, and his heartbeat was suppressed. When he glanced at Deucalion again, he noticed that there was a small smile tugging at the wolf's lips.

Stiles licked his dry lips, feeling hot all of a sudden. He really, really wanted to bite those lips, while sweeping his thumbs over those sharp cheekbones.

Blinking, Stiles turned away, wishing he could coax a genuine smile from the fascinating wolf.

Everyone settled in and the meeting began.

OoO

After the talks, as people started mingling, Stiles found himself with Allison Argent as his companion.

An awkward start later, both of them started talking like they were best friends. It was nice to find someone from the same age group. Allison and Stiles were giggling together by the corner, when suddenly Allison stiffened. The reason, Stiles found, was her grandfather who was making his way towards The Alpha Pack.

Deucalion held his cane with a grip so tight, Stiles could almost hear it creak. Kali and Ennis closed ranks around him, while Peter and the twins, who were talking with other representatives, left their conversations without so much as a by-your-leave, and strode towards their Alpha.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Gerard's satisfied smirk.

The glass in Gerard's hand broke, and his drink spilled all over him. Gerard's face took on an expression of disgust. Before Gerard could continue on to Deucalion, Stiles nudged Allison and rushed to Gerard, holding out napkin.

"Oh my god, Mr Argent," exclaimed Stiles, dabbing at Gerard's suit, and subtly steering him away from the murderous Alpha Pack.

"Who gave you a cup made of glass?" asked Stiles, stricken. "I know how elders are unable to hold anything firmly. It's alright, Mr Argent."

Stiles glanced back at the Alpha Pack, giving them a cheeky wink when he saw Kali not even trying to control her laughter. Allison covered her mouth to stop herself from giggling.

"I think you should go and rest, Mr Argent," Stiles said, concern dripping from every word. "It's been too much excitement than you can handle today, I get it. It's all fine, now."

Gerard's face looked like a thunder cloud, with a fearsome scowl. Stiles didn't give him an opportunity to even speak as he kept speaking over the older Argent. In a matter of minutes, Stiles steered Gerard to the door, got an attendant to take Gerard to his room, closed the door and stood with Allison, with their backs to the door.

The shocked silence in the room was broken as a lone giggle sounded. Stiles turned to see Allison clapping her hand against her mouth. They looked at each other and before they knew it, they had collapsed on each other, laughing their asses off.

And that seemed to be the cue for all the guests to give into the hilarity of the situation.

"You just insinuated," gasped Allison, amidst giggles, "that my grandfather was beyond ancient and that he had performance issues!"

Stiles cackled, hiding his face in Allison's shoulder.

"You're my new best friend, oh god," Allison said, grinning.

Stiles grinned back.

He caught sight of Peter when he raised a glass silently to him, smiling widely. Stiles laughed.

His laughter sputtered out when he saw Deucalion smiling. The wolf looked absolutely beautiful when he was smiling and _Stiles wanted more._

 _Oh shit, this is a problem._

OoO

It was midnight, and Stiles couldn't sleep. His magic, his very spark was vibrating with restless energy. He looked out the window, at the full moon hanging low in the sky.

After a moment of indecision, he grabbed his hoodie, tied his shoes and went out.

There was something fantastical about the night during full moon. He could almost feel the whisper soft song of the goddess as she croons out her lullaby to her children.

He walked into the park, treading softly, just meandering with no purpose. As he neared the area with dense trees, his spark flared to life once again. If he could had to describe it, Stiles would say that his spark was almost _joyful_.

He stood facing the trees, heart beating fast, feeling like something big was going to happen, but having no idea as to what.

A growl sounded, just as Stiles caught sight of red eyes. Adrenaline rushed through him as he stood transfixed.

A huge black wolf emerged slowly, eyes fixed on Stiles, regal and graceful. From behind the wolf, two more pairs of red eyes were visible. And Stiles knew, without looking, that there were three more wolves at his back.

He was surrounded.

A wicked grin split his face.

"Let's run, shall we?"

His spark gave him speed and balance, as Stiles ran, on nimble feet, not from but with the wolves.

The wolves howled from behind him, playfully. To his side, the black wolf kept pace and chuffed at him.

Stiles' joyful laughter rang out.

He had missed this. He was a spark, one of the most respected among both the supernaturals and the hunters. But before he was Stiles Stilinski, Spark, he had been Stiles, _The Boy Who Ran With The Wolves._

So, that night, he did what he had denied himself. He ran with the wolves, as a part of them.

OoO

The next morning, Stiles woke up to fingers running through his hair. He had his head on someone's chest, their heartbeat thudding calmly under his ear. There was someone behind him, holding him across his waist. There was a hand holding onto his ankle, and another on his elbow.

Stiles blinked, mentally shrugged and went back to sleep.

The heavenly smell of coffee, pancakes and bacon woke him for good. He brushed off the hands holding him and stumbled towards the aroma, with his eyes fully closed, shuffling like a zombie.

Someone chuckled and low voices could be heard. Stiles decided to ignore everything in favour of the coffee that some amazing person pressed into his hands.

A sip of liquid heaven and Stiles was ready to sell his soul. A truly pornographic moan escaped him as he took another sip.

The voices fell silent like they were shot dead.

"I am going to marry this coffee," mumbled Stiles, around another mouthful. "Our love is true and eternal."

Chuckles filled the kitchen.

Slowly, as the caffeine woke him up from his daze, he looked around the kitchen. Peter was right next to him, and Stiles leaned on him without any thought. He rubbed his face onto Peter's collarbone and felt as Peter scented him in return.

Kali and Ethan were sitting at the table. Well, Kali was sitting on the table, with her feet on Ethan's lap, who was sitting in a chair. Ennis was making pancakes while Aiden tried to steal from him.

Without conscious thought, Stiles searched for the one other person. And there he was, leaning by the doorway, looking like a shirtless Adonis, wearing his sunglasses. Even the black shades didn't hide the glow of his red eyes as Deucalion took his time to rake his gaze over Stiles, from the top to bottom, leaving Stiles feeling like he had just been x-rayed.

Of course, Stiles was doing the same back to the Demon Wolf, who was really too hot for Stiles' sanity to handle. And Deucalion knew that too, judging by the smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face.

"Breakfast is served!" declared Ennis, cheerfully.

OoO

Stiles did not know how it happened, but he was adopted, for the lack of a better word, into the Alpha Pack. Peter was smug for weeks. Of course, Stiles did not stay with them always. He had his own things to do, creatures to help, hunters to sass. But he always met with the Pack atleast once every two months.

Kali had taken to teaching him how to fight without magic. She seemed to consider him an adorable puppy, considering how she always ruffled his hair and pinch his cheeks. She was also fiercely protective of him. That was obvious by the way she nearly disemboweled a guy at the bar who didn't understand what 'no' meant.

Ennis had set his personal goal as to feed Stiles till he pukes. Everytime, they saw each other, Ennis would click his tongue and say, "Still too thin," and shake his head. That one time when Stiles fainted at their doorstep, after chasing down a damn wind elemental for two whole weeks, and the entire pack collectively lost their shit, Ennis took to sneaking small snacks to Stiles and staring him down till he ate it.

The twins, Aiden and Ethan, were pranksters incarnate, and loved dragging Stiles into their schemes. Stiles thought they were relatively tame, until one fine day, when their schemes resulted in the three of them running for their dear lives, from a swarm of pixies, who surprisingly enough, didn't take kindly to having pranks played on them.

Peter was Peter. He was manipulative, cunning and sarcastic. Whenever Stiles couldn't get out of his head and was spiraling beyond his control, and when soft words and caresses weren't enough to save him from drowning, Peter would provoke him with barbed words and sharp, caustic tongue, prodding him till he began to give back as good as he got.

And then, there was Deucalion. Stiles had been helplessly caught in his orbit, pulling back, terrified, everytime his spark pulled him towards the other wolf, but giving in again and again. Deucalion was so powerful that Stiles could feel his hair stand on end everytime the wolf was in vicinity. The first time they kissed, Stiles knocked the power out to the entire city. Deucalion never stopped reminding him about that.

OoO

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _So, Deucalion?_

 **To: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Yeah :))))_

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _That good?_

 **To: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Better :))))))))_

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Demon Wolf or not, I'll rip his balls off if he hurts you_

 **To: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _Have I mentioned that you are terrifying and that I worship the ground you walk on?_

 **From: Lydia (Goddess)**

 _:3_

OoO

 **From: Dad**

 _Bring your boyfriend for Christmas dinner_

 **To: Dad**

 _No wolfsbane bullets_

 **From: Dad**

 _You ruin all my fun_

OoO

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Congratulations on not being single_

 **To: Sourwolf**

 _OMG DOES EVERYONE KNOW ABOUT ME AND DEUC?????_

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Yes. The Demon Wolf and his Spark._

 **To: Sourwolf**

 _Excuse you, it can totally be The Spark and his Demon Wolf_

 **From: Sourwolf**

 _Lol nope._

OoO

They were all in Venice this time. Everyone was spread out around the living room, lazy and content.

"Hey, Stiles," Peter nudged him with a toe.

Stiles hummed, continuing to read through the tome in his lap, leaning against Deucalion's chest, as Deucalion buried his face in his neck.

"You never did tell me what happened with Scott," Peter reminded, sitting up straight. "I heard different things, but I want to hear it from you."

Stiles looked up and so did everyone else, curious to hear what he had to say.

"Scott tried to give me away in exchange for a treaty with some pack without my consent," Stiles said, flatly. "I disagreed. So, I left."

Peter snarled. "That absolute piece of shit!"

"Scott McCall?" Ennis asked.

"Yeah, Scott McCall of McCall Pack, Beacon Hills. The True Alpha and true paragon of righteousness, yadda yadda yadda."

"Oh my," said Kali, shocked.

"What?" Stiles asked.

Deucalion was laughing, his breath coming out in small puffs, tickling his neck.

"Seriously, what?"

"I think the pack you were supposed to marry into is this pack," laughed Aiden, glancing at a beet red Ethan. "And the person you were supposed to marry was Ethan."

"What," Stiles said, flatly.

Apparently, the Alpha pack, before Peter had joined them, had been there to observe the McCall pack, as was their duty- to observe new packs and judge if they were stable. Scott McCall had wanted them as allies though, and had offered for their packs to be tied through marriage and subsequent mating ceremony between a member of the Alpha Pack and the Spark of his own pack. The Alpha Pack had agreed, wanting to see how things would play out. But McCall had decided to not go through with it at the last moment. And since they had been called elsewhere, the Alpha Pack had not investigated deeper about it.

"I can't even," Stiles said, blinking.

Later, when Stiles and Deucalion were alone, Stiles laughed.

"Me marrying Ethan," Stiles snickered.

Deucalion growled, pushing Stiles up against the wall, and kissing him till he lost his breath.

"You're mine, love," Deucalion said, in his gravelly voice, possessive of his mate.

Stiles kissed Deucalion, biting at the red lips, running his tongue on the tips of his fangs. He cupped his face, slowly and gently removing the sunglasses, running light fingertips over the angry scars. Stiles pressed soft, butterfly kisses over the scars and on his eyelids, his magic singing with how much he loved this man.

Deucalion nipped at the vulnerable throat of his mate, drunk on the enriched scent of ozone and rainforest that was _Stiles_.

"Mine," said Deucalion, lowly.

Stiles flipped them over till it was Deucalion with his back against the wall and Stiles was the one pressed to his front.

Stiles cupped Deucalion's face and gently tilted it up, so he can nuzzle his neck. And the Demon Wolf, the Alpha of the alphas, bared his throat in submission and utmost trust to his mate.

"I'm yours, just as you're mine, Deuc," Stiles said, pressing a kiss to the throat that was in front of him.

OoO

 **From: Kali (Red Terror)**

 _Come home safe, pup_

 **From: Ennis (Mother hen)**

 _Eat properly and regularly, Stiles. I'll know if you don't._

 **From: Aiden (Thing 1)**

 _Are dragons real though?_

 **From: Ethan (Thing 2)**

 _Can you bring any pixie dust?_

 **From: Peter (Zombie Wolf)**

 _Derek and Cora are coming home for Christmas. Hurry back, dear boy._

 **From: Deuc (Love)**

 _I love you._

OoO

 **A/N: (THIS WILL BE A LOOOONG NOTE)** : 

**I would have loved to write more about:**

 **1\. Stiles tearing Gerard apart and gifting his heart to Deuc**

 **2\. Stiles being badass and rescuing the Alpha Pack at some point and texting Derek about it being The Spark and his Demon Wolf now**

 **3\. Stiles researching like hell and finding a way to give Deuc his sight back, and when he did, say that he has the most beautiful eyes Stiles had ever seen.**

 **4\. Christmas dinner, maybe?**

 **5\. Meeting the McCall pack**

 **Tbh, I originally meant for this to be Steter. You might have guessed that with how the story went. Then, Deuc hijacked the plot, that damn wolf. And then, I actually meant to have some witch as the villain by cursing Scott. But uh, I got too lazy. Lol. I wrote this entire thing in a day.** **Let me know if you find any mistakes. Also, if you have any ideas about the story, to add to the above list, drop me a comment. I'm not saying I'll write another part, but! No promises.**

 **HAPPY NEW YEAR, DARLINGS!**

 **May the new year be more gentle to us than the previous one.**


End file.
